Starlit Waltz
by Miran-chan
Summary: Emma, a (now) single mother winds up being dragged along to a dance class, as mental support for her friend Belle. There, she meets Mira Arrow and her brother Killian. Maybe dancing and these people is just what she needs to get over being betrayed. Captain Swan, with Rumbelle and Red Cricket. And the frog princess playing cupid.
1. Chapter 1 -Waltzing Opportunities

**Chapter 1 - Waltzing Opportunities**

**Welcome**: Hello ALL! Welcome to my new story, which is all about learning to dance and finding love. I hope you enjoy this particular set. I look forward to entertaining you all. After all, this is only my first ever attempt at a full AU.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own OUaT or any of the characters. That honour goes to ABC and the show's producers. However, Mira is entirely mine (and WI borrows her) as well as this plot.

**Schedule**: I should be updating about once a week, usually on a Sunday. We will see how it goes. NOTE: Formating should be fixed. thanks for 4getfulimaginator for spotting it.

It was a Wednesday evening and Emma Swan stood outside the village hall, waiting for her friends, who were, as usual, late.

The two people Miss Swan was waiting for were her close friends from work - Ruby, a customer services specialist, and Belle, their very recently promoted team leader. It was probable that Belle, who lived on the town outskirts, had a vaguely realistic excuse - in all likelihood, either the bus or the train she planned to catch was delayed, not for the first, and certainly not for the last, time. Ruby, however, had probably either forgotten, chickened out, or she was on a date and would rush over at the last possible second.

As she waited on the pavement, Emma decided to look at the building which she was going to be entering in the next 15 minutes.

The sign read: "Arrow and Jones Dance Studio" over the old, painted-over and almost faded words "Storybrooke Village Hall".

The building it hung over was just that - an old, quite probably slightly refurbished town hall that was currently being let out to a dance school business. When Belle told them the previous week that she had to learn how to dance within only a few weeks, Ruby had immediately jumped on the chance to 'meet hot men' and found this place. Emma was surprised that she had not noticed that the place was no longer shut up - she did walk past it at least once a week, and drove past it at least three times, but then, she had no real interest in politics or dance. Of course, Ruby had decided that if Belle was dancing and she would be joining her, it would have been completely unfair to Emma to leave her behind - which was why Emma was standing outside the dance studio, instead of at home, with her three-year-old son watching some Disney movie.

The clicking of high heels behind her brought Emma out of her dream state: Belle, slightly out of breath and on incredible, purple four-inch heels, looking like she had just run from the bus stop around the corner, stopped next to her friend and bent over, trying to catch her breath.

Ruby, true to form, was nowhere in sight.

In the last few minutes, a lot of people had arrived, and it looked like there was a group of about twenty others waiting for the opening of the studio. Emma checked her watch. 18:54.

18:55.

As though by command, the light in the room behind the door came on, the large, ornate double doors were thrown open. There, at the top of the stairs, stood a woman, quite short, with blonde-brown hair braided and thrown over her shoulder, beaming at the people below her.

"Welcome to Arrow and Jones, everyone! My name is Cam. If you would like to follow me, I will show you to your class."

With that she turned and disappeared within the building, and the people waiting below followed her.

* * *

Emma had to admit that she liked what the new business had done to the old town hall. The assembly room had been cleared of the chairs, and the dais had been expanded and turned into a proper stage. Part of the room had had the wall knocked through into one of the ante-chambers, which a set of sliding divider walls replacing it. The ante-chamber had a cushioned floor and a mirrored wall. Emma though that it looked rather a lot like a ballet studio.

The main hall had been re-floored with polished wood and the whole space was well-lit. Emma looked as Belle pointed out the moving spot-lights to her.

Whoever had designed the studio had obviously a very good sense of space and knew how to best use it for dancing purposes.

In the middle of the massive room stood a couple, waiting for the students.

The woman was the one that drew attention first. She was quite tall, not as tall as her partner, but she easily matched Ruby in height, and was slim but athletic. She, unlike every woman in the room (with the exception of Emma, who had come in comfortable slacks, a t-shirt and flat shoes) was dressed simply - leggings, blue leg warmers, a loose skirt that could have just been a large piece of cloth tied at the waist, blouse and no shoes. Emma could see that some of the women in the room were pointing at the woman's attire and giggling. She did look slightly out of place, surrounded by females in sparkly, showy dresses.

The man, however, was anything but. He was dressed to how one would imagine a professional dancer to dress as - there was the fitting black trousers, loose, slightly open shirt, immaculate shoes and looked like he was wearing eyeliner.

"My oh my. That man looks good enough to eat."

True to form, Ruby had appeared at the last possible second and was now staring at the man who would probably be their instructor with a wolfish expression in her eyes.

It was true. The man, despite his questionable interest in make up (seriously, was that eyeliner AND mascara?), was absolutely gorgeous, and the other women in the room felt it too. There was more than one suggestive look flying in his direction.

A clock, probably the one on top of the tower of the church opposite struck 7.

The couple, who up until that point had been almost completely immobile and smiling looked at each other. The woman stepped forward.

"Welcome to our Dance Studio. I am Mira Arrow..."

"...and I am Killian Jones, and together we own this humble little place." At this point, he made a little bow. Ruby swooned.

"We are here to help you to learn to dance. Today's session is free and offered as a taster to anyone who wants to try this out." Mira paused for effect. "Please understand that we are very dedicated to what we do. If you are here to enjoy yourself we are more than happy to have you among us. If you wish to learn for professional purposes or for a special occasion, we are more than happy to accommodate you. If you are here to support someone, we appreciate your presence and interest. However, we do not want anyone who is here to show off, or to make others feel uncomfortable, or someone who is not really interested in keeping up with classes. There are advanced classes available during the week, and we can always discuss schedules to accommodate some individuals, but let's be clear: this is a place of learning."

A few people looked annoyed at this point, though Emma could not fault the lady. She had a business to run and needed to know that people would commit. After all, it was likely that after the first few sessions, Emma herself would not come, and it would be better to tell them up front than to not show up with no warning.

The man had in this interval turned on the lights and moved to stand in the spotlight. "Now, if you would all pair off, we are going to show you the steps to a simple waltz. Find a partner and move to a place anywhere in the room where you can see our feet." Belle turned to the blonde and grabbed her hand, looking at her intently with eyes that said please, please don't leave me. The room did contain quite a few more women then men, and Emma had already accepted that this was going to be inevitable.

Ruby on the other hand had somehow managed to end up holding the arm of a lovely man, who looked like he had been the only one who had come without a partner, while a number of other single women looked on, obviously annoyed. They were even more annoyed by the fact that Mr Jones ignored any number of begging looks cast in his direction and remained impassively in the middle of the room.

Once everyone had managed to pair off, he spoke again. "The most important part to remember about the waltz is that you always use the feet in turn. The movements are usually the same for both parties, except they start on the other foot. Please watch."

The man started moving and talking at the same time. "The leading partner starts off on the right foot. It goes forward, turns 90 degrees clockwise before it hits the floor. Now bring the other foot round, also at 90 degrees, some distance to the left. Bring the right foot so that they rest together. Voilà, the first steps." He paused for everyone to see. He then returned to his original position and showed it again, slighty faster.

"Now, if you would?"

Ruby and Belle were amongst the first to respond - Emma's boss glided in the movement with a natural grace that few people would ever hope to have. Ruby stumbled a bit, but she too was graceful. Their movements set off the rest of the group, who all tried the steps while attempting to not fall over anyone else.

Once every one had come to a rest, Killian Jones directed them to repeat a set of similar steps - left foot back, turn it at ninety degrees, right foot step back as well, left brought sideways to re-join it. A few minutes later, he had them repeat the procedure doing those movements repeatedly, until the majority stopped stumbling about and tripping over each other.

"Now comes the easy part." Jones grinned and motioned his partner over. The woman, Mira, walked over, and leaned into the instructor's arms. "I appreciate not everyone will find this appropriate, but typically, the woman holds her right arm out and puts her left hand on the man's shoulder. The man would typically hold the outstretched arm in his left, while the right goes around the waist - if anyone feels uncomfortable, feel free to just place that hand on your partner's shoulder. "

Belle turned to her friend and in that moment Emma knew - she was being quietly manipulated into playing the part of the man. She signed and held out her left hand. Belle carefully stepped up, placing her hand on her friend's shoulder, and Emma did admit that her leading it made more sense - even in her heels Belle French barely made it to Emma's nose, and Emma was not wearing anything with even a hint of a heel.

All the couples had turned to the centre again, and watched as the instructors continued with the demonstration: "Ladies, you start with the backwards step with your left foot; gentlemen and ladies leading, you step forward with your right. Like this." The two floated around the spotlight slowly, taking great care to exaggerate the steps they were making. After a few circles, they stopped and Mira walked over to a sound system in the corner of the room. "If everyone gets some space, and tries to have a few steps on their own, we'll go around and collect some information about you and your interests, just so we can know more about why you've decided to learn to dance. We'll also be correcting your posture and of course available for help." She pressed a button and the room filled with a slow classical melody. "Now, no need to rush, feel free to take your time - we want you to be confident in your steps, not rush into it."

Belle and Emma moved to the edges of the room that now felt suddenly crowded, putting at least a couple of meters between themselves and those closest to them, and Emma allowed herself to be swept up by her friend.

It only took them about five minutes to get a slow steady rhythm up, swinging in circles around their area, steadily getting more and more comfortable with the steps. After the first thirty rounds or so, they both stopped stumbling, and they looked vaguely passable, though Emma did suspect that it may have been the due to Belle's natural grace.

* * *

It was not until about ten minutes later, as they got more and more proficient (and dizzy) that the owner came up with a clipboard. Amazingly, the woman fell into step alongside them and started asked Belle for her reasons for joining the class.

Emma zoned out and instead concentrated on the music.

"And you, madam?"

And she was back on earth after a long, delicate finger tapped her shoulder lightly.

"Sorry madam, I just need to take some details." Miss Arrow was moving next to her, pencil at the ready, hovering over the clipboard. "You might want to pause for a bit - almost fifteen minutes of swinging in circles can make you very dizzy." Emma did as instructed and slowed, Belle quickly excusing herself to go get a cup of water. "Now, may I have your name, please?"

"Emma. Emma Swan."

The look in the dance teacher's eyes appeared to be recognition, but it vanished so quickly that Emma was sure that she had imagined it. After all, where could she have possibly met this woman?

"Alright Emma. Could I please ask your age, where you work and how you came to find us."

"I'm 23, I can't really tell you anything about my job. And that girl over there found you - we are here to 'support' Belle, erm, the woman you just spoke to. She needed to learn for a wedding and, well, we tagged along."

"Ah, you are one of those. Good friend, unable to speak about work. It's ok, I just need an industry, so I'll just put what your friend said." Emma read the writing upside down - IT. That seemed accurate and ambiguous enough. "Now, I can tell that you are a little reluctant to be here. Is this because you are only supporting your friend? " The brown eyes seemed to be full of understanding and Emma had to admit that she was good - reading people and being very direct about it was a skill.

"Well. It's fun. And I think it might be good for me to do something outside of work."

"But?"

"I have a son. He's three and I can't really afford to leave him with friend or a baby-sitter every week."

"I see." The woman paused in her note taking and looked straight at Emma. "Tell you what, I'll see what I can do. We did say we would try to accommodate those who wanted to learn. Can I speak to you after the lesson for a few minutes?" Emma nodded. "Excellent! Oh, and very good posture, the both of you."

The woman ducked out and Emma was left to wonder what exactly made her want to say that she wanted to keep dancing.

"I'm so sorry for leaving you!" Belle had returned. "Want to continue?"

They continued with their dance.

* * *

Altogether, the rest of the lesson went well. Killian stopped them after another five minutes and introduced them to a strange little triangular step that he told them would keep them from being dizzy, and more than one person was grateful for it by the end of the lesson.

"Excuse me? Everyone? This is in regards to the next session, for those wishing to join." The woman was standing on a chair this time, so that everyone could hear her. "The next lesson will be on Wednesday, 7pm, held here. I would advise everyone who did not feel entirely stable on their heels to wear sensible, flat shoes. Bare feet are fine but we don't advise just socks, and we cannot accept liability for anyone who injures themselves because they are overly confident in their abilities to balance on the dance floor." She paused, probably for effect. "Now, regarding the payment. Please be aware that we can only accept cash, unless you are paying for a set of 10 weeks, in which we can take card. The prices are…" Emma zoned out - it was rather pointless, seeing as she was not coming anymore. She didn't come to until Belle gently tugged on her sleeve: "Come on, I'm sure Henry is ready for bed now. He'll want to see you."

Emma obediently followed her two friends, only to be interrupted by hearing someone calling her name: "Miss Swan?"

She turned around.

"Oh. Oh! I m so sorry, I forgot…"

"It's okay, Miss Swan, no need to apologise. Could I speak to you for a moment?" Mira lead her into an alcove outside the main studio room. "Miss Swan, I am going to teach a kids' class on Wednesdays, parallel to the adult one, one I think could suit your son. I used to do gymnastics, and I'm planning to work with kids on dance moves and general flexibility. Would you think your son would like that?"

Emma turned red. "That is very kind, but I really don't think I can afford that."

"Actually, the usual charge for the dance classes is eight quid. I could tell you weren't really paying attention during that part." Mira winked at her. "We normally do discounts for couples and kids, but I was wondering if, since there would be four of you, you'd like a special deal. You, your friend Miss French, Miss Lucas and your son, all for the price of twenty pounds?" Seeing that the woman before her gaping like a fish, she smiled. "You think over it, and give me a call, okay."

So Emma found herself walking home, holding a business card, bearing: 'Mira Enya Arrow, Dance instructor', and a hastily scribbled phone number. Maybe it would be worth it. It was a very reasonable price, after all.

And that Killian Jones did look good enough to eat, just like Ruby said.

**AN: Hope you enjoyed part one. Feel free to PM me at any point - constructive criticism is welcome xx**


	2. Chapter 2 - Latin Steps

**Chapter 2 - Latin Steps**

**Hello all! I am back, a little deaf due to an ear infection, but i have a new chapter! Please enjoy. Special thanks go to WI, for checking this over for me.**

Between the very lucrative offer that the studio owner had made the week before and Ruby's nagging, it was no surprise that the next Wednesday found Emma outside the old village hall at quarter to seven, holding Henry's hand. The chance to get away from everything and just have fun with the girls, learn a new skill and know that her only child was having fun, all had a certain allure.

It had absolutely nothing to do with the gorgeous man who taught the class.

Or who would be lacking a partner, if Mira Arrow was going to be looking after Henry.

Emma had to admit that Ruby's nagging had included a ridiculous quantity of breathless raptures that described the teacher from every flattering angle. He had strong arms and most likely a well-toned chest and abdomen; his face had that ragged bad boy look, he managed to be graceful, and most importantly, according to Ruby (though the way Belle had blushed signified that she agreed), he had a 'criminally hot butt'.

So, with both personal and financial motivation and incentives combining to make the best of both worlds, Emma walked up the stairs with her son.

* * *

It was obvious that the whole place had not quite finished setting up for the lessons. The reception desk was yet unmanned and most of the corridor lights were switched off.

Emma held her son's hand tighter.

"Hello?"

As if on cue, a head popped out from an ajar door behind the reception desk. "Hello. Are you Miss Swan?"

The head belonged to the woman (Emma estimated her to be in her mid thirties) who had let everyone into the building the week before. "I'm Cam. Right this way if you please. Mira was really excited about seeing you."

She led them down a barely-lit hallway to the assembly room that they had used the week before, and straight to the side room with the mirrored wall. Inside, sitting on the mat was Mira Arrow, busy tickling a little girl as someone, presumably her father, looked on, obviously amused.

"Hello Miss Swan. Glad to see that you could make it." Today, the owner of the studio was dressed in what looked like a leotard with tights and a t-shirt over it, and her long red hair was braided into a thick and messy plait.

She sat up on her knees and comically wandered over to Emma and her son on them. "And what is your name, Master Swan?"

The boy went bright eyed and red and hid his face in his mother's knee. A second later, however, he turned back and confidently said: "Henry."

"And I'm Mira. I teach here. Do you want to learn how to do hand stands and maybe dance?"

She had him at hand stands.

Henry looked up at his mom, who nodded with a smile, and ran over to his new teacher.

"Henry, your mom is going to go and dance. I'll take you to watch her half way through the lesson, okay? If you want to talk to her at any time, just tell me, and I'll bring you over to her." The little boy nodded that he understood. "Good, now come here. This is another one of my pupils. Her name is Grace and she's three as well. You want to get to know each other?"

Emma found herself being steered out by the father at this point. "Miss Swan, was it? I'm Matt Jefferson. That's my daughter Grace back there."

Emma smiled and nodded and figured that this was probably a person whom she could ask about this set up. "Is the owner always this helpful?"

The man blinked and then grinned. "She helped you out too, and persuaded you to come along to her classes as well right? Yeah, she is. We used to live in the same building - she practically dragged me to her lessons when they were starting out. Met my wife at them, too. Grace loves her, and Mira has always been helpful. Moved the lesson to Wednesday since it's the only night we can't look after her."

So, the woman clearly has done this before and had a penchant for random acts of kindness. Possibly insane, but the criminal check had turned out literally nothing - not even a parking ticket - and a history of volunteering.

She would just have to take her chances and enjoy herself.

* * *

The group size had shrunk somewhat from the last week, as some people clearly decided that they did not want to continue. Ruby, however, was happy to see that Gus, the man she had met the week before was there, expecting her and greeting her happily as they fell into step while practicing the waltz to the music from the week before.

After Killian had ascertained that those present were both stable (a surprising number of women had turned up in flat shoes, and even Belle had opted for a very low heel) and had not forgotten the basics of what had been taught the week before, he proceeded to call over the woman Emma had met before. "Everyone, this is Cam. We found her on a university campus a few years back. This lady is a wonderful dancer." He held out a hand.

"The cha-cha-cha, my lady."

Emma figured that more than one set of jaws were hanging open when the two started flying across the room once the music came on. The footwork hadn't looked too hard, but the twists and hip work was impressive.

Once the music had ended, Cam and Killian separated and the lesson followed the same format as it had the week before: demonstrations, followed by practice.

As Emma tried to remember the steps and avoid Belle's feet at the same time (step forward on left, bring weight back, step left step left step left, step backwards on right, bring weight forward, step right step right step right), she could see the man making him rounds towards them. Her back straightened, her footwork became more precise and she smiled.

Killian Jones stopped next to them. "Good form, ladies. Backs a little straighter, heads up." He smirked. "However, let's make sure that you don't trample each other. I'll let you off for looking down, Miss. This time. " He moved to get past them then, and Emma could have sworn that she heard him mutter "You could always look down if you were on top."

Oh damn it. He was one of those.

However, when she looked at him again, he was busy assisting another couple with the steps, frowning slightly, and she had to wonder if it had been her imagination.

* * *

It was not until about thirty minutes later that the lesson had been halted.

"Well done, all, you seem to be getting a hold of your balance. Now, we are going to have a little exercise." Jones walked over to the CD player and took a little remote from it. "This is a very special task. I will have two sets playing at the same time, one for the waltz, one for the cha-cha-cha. Your task, ladies and gentlemen, is the switch between the two dances as seamlessly as possible. It's a great skill to have, and it allows you to switch mid dance if necessary. Any questions?" When there were none, the music came on, and the couples started dancing.

Belle looked up, seeming to be rather guilty, for some reason. "Emma, I've been meaning to talk to you."

That was never good. Especially coming from one's boss.

Belle looked distinctly uncomfortable. "It's about Neal."

Emma's face drained of colour and she felt light-headed. She stopped in her tracks, nearly upsetting a couple moving in their direction. Thankfully, Belle's reactions were quicker and she quickly led them both off the floor and out of the way towards the water cooler.

"I know it's not what you want to hear, but they've asked you to testify against him. Are you up to it?" Neal had been a colleague at their firm, who had been arrested on a number of corporate espionage changes several months prior after selling customer data to rivals. Before that, he had worked closely with Emma, and she had consequently been promoted to his position.

That didn't really bother her.

But he was Henry's father.

"Belle French, do you have any idea what you are asking?" she hissed. "You are asking me to speak out against the man I had spent the last four years of my life with, the man I have a child with, in court? How do you know that they won't use Henry to discredit my testimony?"

Belle looked even more guilty. "The lawyers believe it will be to our advantage."

"HOW?!"

"Emma. He's been married this whole time."

The blonde closed her eyes and leaned against the wall, feeling its coldness seep slowly into her bones.

She had suspected this. Bitterly, she choked out: "You know, it doesn't surprise me. The bastard did keep strange hours." She sighed and closed her eyes. "What do we do now? I can't afford the flat and childcare without him. We're only just scraping by as it is, and having to travel to court every day… Belle, what do I do?"

Her boss leaned next to her and brushed off a few of the tears trapped behind the lashes. "Well. We can look for a place together, perhaps? We work opposite shifts, I can look after Henry. And I've been meaning to move to a better part of town. Think we can find a flat to split on?"

Emma was about to answer her when she opened her eyes and was immediately distracted.

Ruby was off to the side, dancing with Gus, laughing over something he said. The majority of the couples were doing the same, but there was one set that caught Emma's eye. It was two women, who had their eyes fixed on her friend and with each step were swinging closer to Ruby.

It all happened rather quickly.

One of the women let go with one hand of her partner and bumped into Ruby. She then used her now free hand to slam into their friend and push her to the floor.

Ruby stumbled, fell and narrowly avoided having one of her hands stomped on with a rather sharp stiletto.

Belle and Ruby moved as one towards their fallen friend, ignoring the sneering women who were pretending not to notice what they have done. They saw that the receptionist was doing the same and within seconds the whole room had stopped and was looking at them.

In the commotion, someone had also stopped the music.

Cam felt all of Ruby's bones and gave her diagnosis.

"Sprained ankle. We do have a practicing physiotherapist on the premises. Can you lift her?" The last was directed at Gus, who was hovering over his partner. He nodded and carefully picked her up. "Right this way then."

Belle immediately followed while Emma went to fetch their bags from the table by the wall.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Killian Jones walk up to the two women. "Are you ladies alright?"

They swooned and started giggling, assuring them that they were fine.

He smiled, but the expression was incredibly cold. "Good. Now get out."

Their smiles immediately fell, but one of them attempted to salvage the situation. "What, why? What have we done?"

The man was clearly having none of it. "What you have done, lass, is purposefully hurt and injure a woman in one of my classes. Now I can see that you don't have much of the little thing called honour, so I'm going to tell you like it is. If that lady decides to press charges, I'll be happy to help her."

The other woman sneered. "You can't prove we did anything."

"He might not, dearie, but the CCTV cameras certainly will."

Everyone turned to face the new comer. It was a man, probably in his late thirties, though the cane he was holding on to made him look older, dressed impeccably in a suit.

"And who the hell are you?"

Emma may have been mistaken, but Jones and the newcomer exchanged a brief smile.

"I am Mr Gold, and I happen to own the building you are currently standing in. And you, if I am not mistaken, are the two Cinder girls. I can just imagine the scandal. Isn't one of you on probation for assault? I can only imagine how proud your mother will be if this goes to court." He sneered and stared at the two. Slowly, they started inching out of the room.

Jones called out to them, just as they were leaving the room. "And I would rather you did not come back. At all. I don't need you ruining our reputation."

He waited for them to leave the room before turning away and nodding at Mr Gold. Emma had heard of the man, a local lawyer and property owner, by reputation, and she thought she had a good idea as to why the brats had retreated. The instructor turned to the rest of the class and smiled. "I apologise for the drama, everyone. Now, I doubt that we will get much done in the last…" he glanced at a clock "... seven minutes of the class. Why don't you start wrapping up? I'll make it up to you by carrying the next class on by an extra quarter of an hour, if anyone wishes."

Everyone murmured their agreement.

Killian made his way over the room to Emma, who was still standing off to the side, clutching her and her friends' bags. "I believe you are worried about your friend. Will you let me take you?" And offered her his arm.

* * *

Ruby was in a small office of the physiotherapist on site, lying on the raised bed, having her foot and ankle examined by the a man whose name was presumably, from the sign tacked on the door, Dr A. Hopper. She looked like she may have already been given painkillers although Ruby was known for being perpetually giddy and her slightly drunk-looking actions were not that uncommon for her.

"Emmy! Emmy! You've been found! And, oh, you've brought someone tasty."

Belle was standing near her, stroking her arm, attempting to calm her friend down. Ruby just resorted to giggling instead. Gus was nowhere to be seen, though Belle responded to Emma's questioning look by mouthing 'I sent him home'.

It made sense - it was already too crowded in the little office.

The doctor stopped bandaging his patient in that moment. "All right, don't put too much weight on that foot and it will be as good as new in a few days. No tears, just a minor sprain."

"My hero." Ruby looked at him adoringly.

The doctor, who happened to be a red-head, blushed furiously at the comment. "Erm, yes. Well. Erm. If you say so?"

Ruby giggled and Belle looked mortified.

"Alright, I believe now that the lady has been treated, we need to think of getting her home. May I inquire as to where you live?" Jones had obviously decided to spare his colleague any more embarrassment.

Emma answered for all of them. "She lives above the Lewis Lodge café, but I can drive her."

"Erm, actually, it's okay," Dr Hopper said. "I normally car-share with Mrs Rose - Cam - and she lives not far from the café. I can take you if you don't mind, Miss?"

And with that Ruby had successfully and quite unconsciously snared herself a doctor.

* * *

Emma had stayed behind after Belle had, with Cam's help, bundled their still-incoherent friend intothe good doctor's car, stopping to collect her son. Killian had been the perfect gentleman the whole time, escorting her back to Henry, keeping the little boy entertained while she packed away his things. It was not until they were ready to leave that he addressed her directly again, just after she'd received a text from Belle telling her that Ruby was safe, and that she'd start booking appointments to view apartments and houses for her, Emma and Henry to share first thing in the morning.

"So, lass, when can I pick you up for dinner?"

Her eyebrows shot up - she had barely exchanged five words with the man about a subject other than Ruby.

"Well, I had hoped that you could look down at me, though if it's not your thing, I can always do the looking down."

It took a moment for the meaning to sink in. She was about to smack him when he saved the situation by speaking again.

"Look, Mira mentioned you wanted to do dancing even though you were reluctant because of the cost and your son - I figured that I could at least apologise to you for ruining the lesson. And I admire your drive to look after your friends and your son. So what do you say, can I take you and the lad somewhere?"

Before she could respond, Henry looked up to her, bright-eyed.

"Can he?"

The boy was clearly enamored with the dancer. Emma sighed.

"Maybe. I'll get in touch."

And she left him on the steps on his Studios, holding her son's hand, looking wistfully at her retreating back.

**AN: A few more chapters are just being edited. Hopefully I can get over writer's block by Christmas :)**


	3. Chapter 3 - Polka Dotted Vision

**Chapter 3 - Polka Dotted Vision**

**Hello All, and welcome to my new chapter. I apologise for the delay, this was meant to go up Sunday, but I managed to misplace half the chapter on another computer. But it is here now, so enjoy.**

Emma's Saturday had started out exceptionally early. Belle had, in her very efficient way, scheduled 15 different home viewings and they had to get through them all in the day.

Truly one could not, under normal circumstances, wish for a better friend. Belle had, that Thursday after the dance class, mapped out their entire town and had highlighted two areas that suited both of them - less than 20 minutes walk to work, under 10 minutes time to Henry's kindergarten, close to a food store and near quite a number of the amenities their town had to offer.

However, as Emma knew from actually working with the woman and being her subordinate, Belle Lacey French was a complete control freak. It was so bad, in fact, that it was currently just after 3 pm on a Saturday that was entirely too hot for September and they were looking around property number 14, with no end or hope in sight.

That was not to say that the properties already seen had anything too wrong with them. They were almost entirely three bed places but offered nothing amazing for the asking price. A few were not designed for children at all, with no place to put push chairs and one of the placed had a 'bedroom' that was essentially a closet - Henry's bed would not have fitted in there, let alone anything else. As a result, Emma was steadily losing all hope for finding something suitable.

The real estate agent, a extremely large man (though not for the lack of exercise - he had been walking with them the whole day, occasionally helping to carry Henry and climbing stairs ahead of them with speed)in his early thirties came down the stairs, where he had been taking a call. He straightened his jacket, assessed his clients and sighed. "Let me guess. Something is still missing?"

Belle pursed her lips and nodded.

The man sighed again. "Thought so. And you look like you will not settle for anything less than perfect."

Another nod.

"Well, there is a little problem with the number 15 on your list. They cancelled. Something it having been just let via another agency." He ignored Belle, who looked ready to kill him where he stood, and carried on, expertly cutting off the tirade his customer had been about to launch herself into. "However, I have just been told that a two bed place has just become available in another location not far from here. If I remember it correctly, it is only a minute or so from this young man's kindergarten. What do you say?" And he smiled, carefully picking up Henry and spinning him around.

There was no way in hell Belle would ever attack anyone carrying a child and the agent, Mr Tiny, knew it. Thus the human shield.

Thus the hissing as well.

"Mr Tiny , we specifically requested to look only at three bedroom places. In case you haven't noticed, he have a child with us, and he is going to need his own space."

The man grinned, in a very charming and disarming manner. "Yes, but I m sure you will like it." And with that, he walked off down the stairs, carrying Henry in his arms.

The two women exchanged a hopeless look and followed him anyway.

* * *

Mr Tiny was a psychic. It could be the only explanation.

Other than him being extremely good at his job.

The two bed was obviously a good 300 quid cheaper than most of the places they had already seen. However, as the agent had said, there was something special to it. The master bedroom was massive and had it's own shower room off it. But even better was the smaller bedroom. The room, while not as big, was a good side, and had a large double door on one end. Initially, Emma had thought it to be a closet, until Mr Tiny opened it with a flourish. Inside was quite a large third room. It clearly had been set up as a walk in closet by the current tenants, but they could see that there was more than enough space to put up a table and bed for Henry, and probably enough space for both a wardrobe and a play set up.

Emma turned to the agent.

"Mr Tiny, why is this place even on the market?"

"Anton, please. Well, most people, when looking for space don't actually like these rooms. Too much hassle to sell and you can't really have it as a guest room. So unless you need an office, it puts people off. I thought that given your unique set up it could be a good thing, at least until this beansprout is a little bigger and you want your own place."

It only took them another 20 minutes to get to the agency and to put down the holding deposit.

* * *

Unfortunately, by the time Monday rolled around it was obvious that walking for a whole day on the weekend had done Belle no good. She had come down with the flu and was unlikely to be in any shape to come to work, which left Emma in charge of the whole customer facing operations. As a result, she was stuck - she needed to do double the amount of work she usually did and interview the applicants who had applied to be on the team on her own.

The first couple of people were not very memorable - university educations, desperate for work, no social skills. A few didn't have any idea of what confidentiality meant and one young man, who had obviously managed to so far get in life using his good looks didn't see the point of working in a customer role for long - he wanted to become a manager and earn a lot of money from the get go. The kid, Shaun, clearly had no handle on the real world - after telling her that he didn't see the point people put on IT security, he had the gal to ask how soon till he got promoted to manager. When Emma had told him that the wait was, at best, indefinite and depended on his performance, but 4 to 5 years being the expectation, he blew up and threatened to sue them for curbing his career.

Needless to say, he was not getting a job.

A few interviews later, Emma was ready to rip up her notes and give up. She even contemplated calling a few competitors and seeing if she could poach from them, protocol and good industry practices be dammed. It was then that Ruby popped her head in. "How's it going?"

"Ugh. I sometime wonder why I took the promotion."

Ruby nodded sympathetically and then slipped into the room, closing the door behind her. "I know how you feel. I met a few of them and they think that they are entitled to the job."

"Tell me about it! You know, with the exception of maybe two people they didn't even try to prepare, knew nothing about what we do and don't even see this as experience. Why is Belle not the one doing this? In fact, how does she do this at all?"

Ruby smiled, her sympathy evident. "Want me to stay with you for the last few?"

Emma sighed. "I wish. I trust Wendy, but she does tend to get overwhelmed if anyone foreign calls. For a girl educated in a posh private school, she surely gets flustered a lot, though I do suppose that she is still quite new. When did she join? Two weeks after the police came round? And go and make sure that Town Planning Office don't terrorism her."

And with that declaration, her fruitless search continued.

* * *

Tuesday started out much the same way. Interviews, a few meetings about security protocols and legal changes to them and brooding took up most of Emma's morning, her hope that a useful candidate would turn up quickly evaporating. She took her lunch with a few of the technical staff and headed off to meet her next slot for the afternoon.

*CRASH*

Emma was, rather violently, slammed into a wall by a mass of hair and cloth. When she straightened herself, she found that she had been in the way of a girl who looked to be about 20, who had tripped. Probably over her own feet.

"Oh, I m so sorry. I didn't mean to floor you like that. I can't seem to be able to walk without tripping." She paused and blinked. "You won't happen to be Ms Swan by any chance?"

Emma mutely nodded. "I m your 2pm interview. I completely understand if you think I m not suitable for the job after this." The girl sounded sad, but somehow determined at the same time. At least she had an ethic and possibly common sense, if an absolute lack of balance. She moved to walk back out of the door, beginning to look dejected.

"Actually, wait. You don't really have to move much in this job, so maybe I will find you are suitable after all?"

The girl's eyes lit up. "Well, I think you'll find that I have an unnatural attraction to the floor, but please. I would really love a chance."

* * *

Ruby was extremely surprised when Emma came out of the interview room skipping.

"Ruby, I have her! She even managed to placate the Dragon when she barged it and demanded we free up the room! Completely unqualified and an excellent sense of humour. Where was she?"

Ruby could only smile.

* * *

Wednesday rolled around and there was still no sign of Belle. The poor woman was in bed, completely incapacitated by a flu and there was no way that she could make it to the dance lesson that evening. Emma dropped off Henry with Mira and made her way to the class, only to find that everyone, including Ruby, was already paired up and that she was left without a partner.

"Today, we will be repeating the same dances that we have learnt over the last two weeks. There is no point, as I am sure you will agree, to learn something without solidifying the knowledge. We shall start with a simple waltz." Killian walked amongst the pairs, correcting stances, before he noticed that Emma was still near the door, all alone. Reaching her, he smiled, "It seems like the lady lacks an escort." Although he looked convinced that she would not turn him down, his eyebrow was still raised in questions. Instead of answering, she stepped into his arms and raised her own eyebrows in answer. "Well, are you going to just stare or actually waltz?"

The man took her up on the challenge. It was a new experience, being lead rather than leading, but one she adjusted to with ease. The man was an amazing dancer and could obviously read body queues - no step was too large, the pace was slow and they glided across the floor with more and more confidence on her part.

"You never got in touch."

The words threw Emma a little, but she recovered, remembering that he had, essentially, asked her out on a date. "Well, I was busy."

Jones's face immediately closed off. "I am sorry. I didn't realise. I apologise for misinterpreting the signs. The boy's father must be quite the catch."

"Oh. Oh no. Gods I'm not married. Or involved. Single mum and, yeah." She was blabbering, but for some reason she was determined to tell the man that he had read the situation correctly. "I m just in a situation where my boss is ill, I m filling in for her, am trying to move home and I crawl home and Henry and I fall asleep." Jones look amused. "What? I just have a busy life."

"Would the lovely lady who was with you the last two weeks happen to be your boss?"

"Belle? Yeah. She came down with flu after a home hunt and decided her bed was more attractive than a dance floor."

"Really? Lass, I dare say that the attractiveness of the bed is directly correlated to it's contents. If they are attractive enough, then falling in is more than just comfortable."

'Oh, that voice' Emma thought, and shivered involuntarily. She did manage a biting remark, however: "I doubt you would have anyone falling over you."

The grin on her partner's face spread. "Is that a challenge, lass? Let me make you an offer. If I am good enough to make you fall over, you will go on a date with me?"

"Would your girlfriend not disapprove?"

Now the dancer looked confused. "What girlfriend? Cam? CAM? No. Just, no. Oh God, that is so wrong. No, no, not Cam. She's MARRIED." He looked slightly green at the suggestion.

"Mira." Her comment was, surprisingly, followed by laughter. "Mira, my dear, is my sister. The differences in surname is due to a 'particular' family situation, and the closeness, well, we are siblings."

Emma felt her cheeks slowly turning bright red. Jones laughed again. "No need to blush, lass. A lot of people mistake us for lovers. Do tell Mira - she is likely to get a kick out of it. Now, if you will excuse me? I shall shortly return to collect on our deal."

He let her go and moved back to Cam in the centre of the room, setting the stage for the second part of the evening - teaching them a few cha cha cha figures, before returning to her side and guiding her through the steps.

* * *

It was quarter to nine when Jones stopped the class again. "Now, well done everyone. You have all done exceptionally well today. Now, as promised, we are expending the lesson by a quarter hour. Cam and I wanted to show you something a little fun. It is not strictly speaking a classic dance - the polka is more of a dance of the folk variety. But it is very enjoyable and very good exercise."

One of the two instructors must have pressed the remote and the music came on. The two instructors moved as one, galloping, for lack of a better word, across the room and spinning into another direction every couple of steps. When the track finished, both of them were obviously out of breath. The instructor doubled over, trying to catch his breath, hand on thighs, and managed a cheerful "And that is now you do it! Three sideways hopping steps, then do a 180 jump-turn. Repeat until you find yourself gasping for air or collapsed on the floor. Pair up, everyone!" He straightened back up and walked back to Emma. "So, lass, ready?"

Emma did find the dance to be a challenge and at the same time incredibly fun. She was being literally dragged around the floor and could not stop laughing in the process. Several times they avoided a narrow collision with another galloping pair, only for Jones to grip her a little tighter and whirl her in another direction. Several times more she screamed, sure she was going to barrel into someone and alerted that couple with the shouts, enabling them to change direction.

She collapsed on the floor after 7 minutes 42 seconds, out of breath and giggling uncontrollably. Her partner joined her, grinning like a little boy with a slice of cake.

"I see that I won, my lady."

It took Emma's brain a few moments to catch up and realise that he meant the earlier bet. Deciding that this man was clearly too determined and useless to argue against, she grinned.

"Hand up?"

Wordlessly, he stood up from the floor and reached out, pulling her off the wooden surface a few seconds later. Looking around, they found that most people were in similar situations - some were on the floor, a few couples were leaning against a wall and in the middle of it all stood Cam, one hand on her hip, the other holding the remote for the sound system, her eyebrows raised in an 'I am really unimpressed with your lack of ability to stay upright' look.

On the bright side, it seems that everyone had avoided any major collisions.

"Well, everyone, I hope you enjoyed today's class." There was a murmur of breathless agreement, as people struggled to get their lung function back under control. "As you are advancing well, we move onto the Jive. Class dismissed."

Grinning, Killian Jones turned to his partner to find her already gone. Surprised, he looked around, seeing the other people file out of the room, he figured that she must have gone to the smaller studio to collect her son.

However, by the time he had arrived there, she was gone, and so was Henry. The room only contained his sister, who was grinning from ear to ear and was fanning herself with a with a small paper square.

"She's already gone." Mira's voice was unnaturally sing song. She also looked too smug for her own good. "I do have a message for you though. Something to do with you winning a bet?" The square of was waved in his direction, then snatched away at the last second. "Ah-ah-ah. I wishes to know about this bet of yours." Seeing her brother's annoyed expression, she laughed. "Fine, you can have it, but I want a full summary later." She handed the piece of paper over.

On it were the following words.

Saturday, 5th October.

17 St John's Close, Flat C

Bring a van - you are helping us move.

And below, a smiley with a tongue sticking out and the words

"Good enough for a first date?"

In his haste to punch the air in success, he almost missed her phone number scribbled at the very bottom. It was a good day.

**AN: I am really getting into this again. Slowly getting rid of the writer's block, and that means I could have it all written by week 3 of Jan. In other news, I am leaving my job at the end of the year, so things will be a little more hectic as I start looking for something new. Anyone need a trainee accountant around the Reading area of the UK?**


	4. Chapter 4 - Jive Along

**Chapter 4 - Jive Along**

**Hello All. Here is the 4th part of the story. Hope you all enjoy this, and a Merry Christmas, as well as other holidays! **

Emma was feeling incredibly guilty. There really was no reason why she should be feeling this way, and she really should not have been resenting her boss at this moment, especially after everything that Belle had done for her and her son.

However, she still was feeling slightly bitter and resentful.

Belle had recovered over the remainder of the week and had come back into the office on Monday morning. She had commended Wendy and Ruby on holding the fort and Emma for managing to find a suitable candidate.

"I remember this girl. She didn't have the correct qualifications, but she was born in France and she had obviously done her research. I m glad that she had the interpersonal skills we need. She starting in a week?"

And with that Emma's decision was approved and she felt elated.

Of course, now, it was Wednesday and they were at the dance class.

The source of her resentment was obvious.

If she was dancing with Belle, she would not be able to dance with their wonderful instructor. Damn her boss and the fact that she was better. Not that she REALLY meant that, of course. Just a little.

Today, they were doing the jive. Cam and Killian were convinced that their class was ready for it. "Step back, bring weight back forward, 3 side steps right, then left, repeat." The basic figures were going well, and within the hour they were paired up and attempting to dance. Emma's brain wasn't really in it.

When she had left Jones the note the week before, she had assumed that he would end up peppering her with calls, asking her out on dates and generally making a nuisance of himself. However, apart from one text-message discussion, he had made no efforts to do that at all. The only things that he had asked were if she needed a van and how many items of furniture would need to be lifted. There was exactly one piece of innuendo, related to her hopefully having a four poster bed and handcuffs available. After she shot him down, he just confirmed the day and time and wished her well. Since then he had not communicated with her at all, and Emma was beginning to find that she actually missed the attention that he had shown her the previous week.

In her mind, this was related to her dancing with him, and in turn with Belle having not been there last week. Emma's tired brain added those two, and came to the conclusion that it was Belle's fault that her dance teacher was not paying her attention.

She almost fell over when the musical piece that they were learning to ended and Belle came to an abrupt stop. Great, another thing to blame her boss for.

Emma listened as the instructors summarised the session and dismissed their class, but didn't really concentrate on the words, thinking of ways to ensure that her partner was not going to be making it to the next session. So, when she heard someone speak in her ear, she literally jumped.

"I would offer a penny for your thoughts, but I worry that you would accuse me of treating you like a commodity." His voice, smooth as silk, left no possibility of mistaking his suggestion. "May I walk you to your son?"

His eyes were alight with mischief - the door for the mirror walled room was no more than 5 meters away, but she still nodded, attempting to get her pulse under control - from the surprise, she told herself.

"I had taken the liberty of calling in some favours for Saturday. I have a friend with a can who will come along and will help us. That is alright with you, lass?"

Emma's expression turned slightly apprehensive, but her companion waved away her concern, "He would only expect to get a drink or a meal out of it. I can assure you that a pint at the end of the day will be all the payment he would ever need. Grumpy is like that." Despite herself, Emma turned to look at him. "Grumpy?"

Jones chuckled, "His name is Leroy. But's always so moody that we call him Grumpy. The name stuck."

Thankfully, they had reached the children's class by then.

"Mamma!" Henry came running to her, crashing into her legs and looking up at her. "I can do Kat wheel!"

Jefferson, who was already pushing Grace's arms into her coat laughed. "Cartwheels, Henry. Cart-whe-els."

Henry turned back to the man and to the amusement of the adults present said "Yes! Kat Wheels!"

Mira had finished talking to the other parents and had come over to join them. "Just show them, Henry."

The boy nodded, and then started across the floor, putting his hands out in front of him, and wheeling sideways. Once he was done, everyone applauded. Mira spoke up, "Henry, go put your trousers and jumper on and you can come back for the coat, ok?" The little boy nodded and ran off. His teacher turned her attention to his mum.

"So, I hear you are moving." The grin on her face immediately alerted Emma that something was up, so her response was an apprehensive: "Yes?"

"Excellent!" The redhead did not pause for breath, "I was thinking, a place with lots of boxes and heavy lifting is no place for a child. Do you want me to take him off your hands for a day? There's a reading group on Saturdays in the town library, and then maybe I could take him to Granny Lewis's place for lunch?"

Emma had to admit that the idea had merit. Mira, seeing her hesitate, continued, "I have a two year old nephew and I helped out with our cousins all the time. I can call you at any time intervals. You make the rules, I just want to make sure that Henry isn't on your minds when you move any crates."

"Wait, Granny Lucas's?"

"Yeah. Cam and I eat there all the time. Mrs Lucas is a wonderful cook. You know the place?"

"I know Granny. She's Ruby's Gran."

"So, you'll let him go?"

Emma hesitated. After all, these people were still strangers and she was still not sure of them. "Can I call you or Killian tomorrow or Friday and confirm?"

Mira nodded and went to help Jefferson lace up Grace's shoes, while Jones smiled and wished her and Henry a good week.

* * *

When Henry almost got crushed by a stack of boxes that he had kicked, on Friday morning, Emma hurriedly found the number that was tucked into a coat pocket. The not-quite awake dance teacher answered the phone with a strangled "hullo".

"Mira? Sorry to call this early, but I was offering if your offer still stood? Can I drop off Henry at 10 at the Studio? YO'll come over? You are a life saviour. Thanks."

Maybe there were people who were more insightful than her in the world.

AN: Hope you are liking it! I am going to be posting a surprise piece on Christmas Day, before I go play with my nephew, so bee on the look out for it.


	5. Chapter 5 - Mendelson's March

**Chapter 5 - Mendelson's March**

**Merry Christmas, Happy New Year and may you have a good time, now and ever! This is the Rumbelle chapter - they really do need time to shine, but wait! Captain Swan is here too! Enjoy and review :) Next chapter will be more interaction between Mira and Emma.**

On a typical day Belle would have said that she loved weddings. The beauty of the union between two people was glorious, shared by their family and friends and important in shaping their future.

On this occasion, however, she found it almost impossible to enjoy.

It was not to say that the room was ugly, or the guests overly tedious. The large guestroom of the family estate, that her mother had affectionately called the 'ballroom' was exquisitely decorated with little fairy lights and long garlands of flowers. The gardens around the house were immaculate. Even the ceremony and the bride's dress were classy and tasteful, without too much pomp and showmanship. By all rights, Belle should have been at the very least impressed.

That would have probably also been the case, if the wedding had not been her father's and his now third wife's. The Third wife's who also happened to be Belle's boss.

* * *

Mr French had always had a habit of attracting women. He had met Belle's mother and his first wife while he had still been quite poor. They went to the same further education college (It didn't become a university until almost a decade after they left) while he was there thanks to his grades and she was staying close to home. Tina has always been a sickly woman, and her family decided that rather than send her to a university, having her close to home was the best thing. They fell in love, and after Moe's business venture had been successful, they married. The fears about her health realised themselves when Belle was 11 - her mother had simply wasted away in front of their eyes.

Moe French mourned the woman he loved for years, ignoring the flocks of those who were hopeful that his widowhood would not be permanent, and concentrated on raising his only child. It was only when Belle had left to Birmingham and the living reminder of his wife gone from his mind of a daily basis did he succumb to the advances of one Cora Mills, a known serial divorcee and rumoured gold digger.

Although he had never been particularly good at reading people or sensing their ulterior motives outside of the business sphere, particularly when it came to women, even Moe French was able to tell that something was wrong only a few months into his marriage. His new wife was always demanding that he host social events, galas, that he bought her jewellery, fur coats, dinners at the Fat Duck and, strangely, she kept insisting to see her husband's will. This charade continued for well over two years, until it all changed when Cora had asked for a valuation of the Rose Lodge, the property that they were living in, about an hour out of London, and that had originally belonged to Tina's parents. Moe's somewhat confused response had been:

"Rose Lodge? Well, when I last insured the house, it was valued at well over £3 million."

According to the hired help on the estate, some of whom had been there for most of Belle's life and loved her like one of their own, while despising the new mistress, Cora's eyes had lit up at the response, little pound appearing as she took this in.

From that day, the woman pestered her husband endlessly about selling the house. All sorts of arguments were used: how old fashioned the property was, the distance to his tobacco company's office, the cost of upkeep, the fact that it was miles from anywhere, including civilisation. After a few weeks of pointlessly dropped hints, she took the next step. Brochures about property agencies, as well as leaflets with townhouses, penthouses, flats and detached properties, both in London and in the nearest town of R started appearing on coffee table and on pillows.

Moe ignored it all, until once day, Cora brought a realtor to actually evaluate the house. He waited as the realtor walked around the property, gushing about it's state and promising that the could sell it for three and a half million, for a 'small' fee. Once the man was out of the door, Moe took his wife aside and told her the one thing that ended their marriage (a cleaning lady was VERY interested in cleaning some pictures on the other side of the door).

"Cora, this house was always Tina's. Her family left it to her, and she left it to Belle in her will. I may live here, but only because my daughter lets me stay. I have NEVER owned it, and you could never sell it."

According to the cleaning lady, Cora had exploded and ran out of the room. Later, on the phone to a lawyer, she ranted about how she had been misled into the marriage, how her husband was a heartless monster and how she could never be with a man like him, but deserved his entire wealth as compensation.

The divorce papers had arrived (and were signed) the next morning. Thankfully, the judge was the reasonable sort, who had known Moe for years. The claims that Cora was making were thrown out, and she was ordered to return every single item of jewellery that she had been give after the marriage (Moe let her keep an anniversary set he had bought her). She could only console herself with the expensive clothes that she had managed to stash away.

* * *

Having seen first hand what her dad's divorce had done to him, let alone the marriage, Belle was understandably apprehensive of her own boss becoming the new mistress of the house.

Of course, she did have a slightly better history than Cora did, so that certainly helped.

* * *

Raven Maleficent was the polar opposite to Cora in many respects. While the woman also had a taste for expensive things, most of it had been earned - Raven came from a working class family and she had worked for the majority of her adult life. About a decade ago she had made the fatal mistake of falling for and marrying her boss. This man had (oh the irony) been a widower, with a 13 year old daughter to take care of. While they were well suited, Raven, who was then still in her early 30s, resented the fact that her husband had spent almost all his time with his little girl, and while she understood that the father and child needed to spend their time together, she began to resent the fact that she was always forgotten.

A few years later, she filed for divorce, requesting a reasonable settlement that would allow her to live independently, and siting that they had grown apart. Despite everything, she requested to be able to see her step daughter, for whom she had developed a soft stop, and surprisingly she had been granted that as well.

Raven moved on with her life, kept in contact and on good terms with her ex husband and decided to be there for little Rory whenever she needed to be.

They all missed the signs.

Almost three years later, Rory was in a car crash. The doctors, who for years simply assumed that her perpetual tiredness was due to being overworked in school. Now, the diagnosis had been amended - narcolepsy.

Rory had spent 8 months in hospital and then had to retake her entire final school year, followed by slow progress through a nearby Uni. The two women came to respect and rely on each other, and Raven was number two on Rory's speed dial.

There was no doubt that the woman who had, in the mean time, worked her way up to the Chief Executive of an entire branch of a multinational security company, was a good person. She was funny, intelligent, kind, loving, professional and extremely capable in all aspects of her life.

It was Belle who had introduced her Boss to her father at a Christmas party two years ago. The high professional standing and the fact that they had both lost the people they loved, to divorce and death, had allowed them to bond. Over time, they discovered that they shared the same interests - Raven had a passion for horses and flowers, and Moe shared at least the latter. They both loved to read, had a keep interest in history and simply enjoyed each other's conversation. They were truly well matched, there was no fear, especially on Belle's part, that her boss would ever turn out like Cora did.

* * *

But the fear stayed. Would all of them be able to separate personal and professional? Would being subordinate and step daughter change the way people thought about Belle and damage her career?

And those thoughts alone had Belle reaching for the whisky.

"Ah, an excellent choice, dearie!"

Belle looked up and noticed that during her musing along memory lane a man, most likely in his 40s, dressed in an immaculate suit was looking down at her. Great, she thought, either another bloke trying to get lucky or one of her dad's associates attempting to impart their words of advice. Possibly both.

"I assure you, miss, that I am not here to make any form of small talk beyond the quality of good Scottish whisky. I have no doubt that you are a grown up, and I have no wisdom I could possibly share with you. I am simply here for a rest." The man sat down on one of the hard stools that lined the temporary bar. "Festivities of this kind are not my thing."

It was only now that Belle noticed that the man was in pain. She also saw that he was swinging a cane out of his way. The way she had thought about him earlier made her slightly uncomfortable, so when he ordered a glass for him and one for her, she didn't refuse, but took it gladly.

"Now that I have bought you a drink, allow me to introduce myself. Gold."

"Belle. Belle French."

The man's eyes lit up slightly. "Ah, the groom's daughter then? I imagine you have been fielding off suitors all day then. I apologise for approaching you the way I did earlier. You must be fed up with the well-wishers who can't help their jealousy."

This accurate observation made Belle frown. What this Gold had said did ring true - from the large number of those who had approached her today, baring a few close family and friends on both side, the vast majority had been hiding their jealousy of the couple, as well as their wealth, rather badly. The few who weren't were typically men and typically were hoping to get lucky and partake in the family's happiness that way. Maybe it was this brutal honesty that caused her to respond the way she did.

"What kind of a name is Gold anyway?"

The man, this Gold, sighed. "It is one that causes many a raised eyebrow. It's actually.."

"Rum! I am so glad you could make it! Thank God I have at least one intelligent non-family member at this gathering to talk to." It appeared that her new step mother knew Belle's drinking buddy. Rum? Seriously?

The bride turned to her step daughter. "Belle, I wanted to steal you away for a few minutes. I know you hate all of this, but it would mean a lot to your father if you danced with him. Please?" And here was the reason that the Dragon was tolerated - she did truly want to make her husband happy. Belle smiled a true smile for the first time since the ceremony finished. "Lead the way, ma'am."

It was strange that she felt regret over leaving the poor Mr Gold on his own with the whisky.

* * *

Belle had danced beautifully. The lessons from the dance school had clearly paid off, as she didn't fall, trip, misstep, crush her father's toes or make a fool of herself in any way. Once the dance had finished, she chose to sit with Raven and Rory (the probability of hiring her own future step sister was insanely small, but Aurora had squeaked and tripped over her shawl in embarrassment, and then proceeded to insist that here she be called Rory).

"So, you have met the infamous Rum Gold, then."

It was phrased like a question, but Belle knew her boss well enough that it was really meant as a statement, so she nodded. "Good man, he is. Educated, smart. We went to Oxford together, actually, same college, except he read Law and I did Economic History. It's a pity his life turned out the way it did."

"What do you mean?"

Raven sighed. "Poor man. He had a kid, you know." Now Belle was listening. "HAD? What happened?"

Her step mother signed again. "Well, I don't know all the details, but as far as I do, he married about a decade ago. Pretty little thing, interested in comfortable living but really dedicated to him. She was a corporate events organiser, I think, loved to travel, spent her time helping big corporations like our schedule trips, Christmas parties, got to travel the world on the job as well. Then they had a kid."

Raven stopped for a minute, and Belle was convinced that she was tears in her step mother's eyes, accompanied by a sad smile. "I remember little Bae. Beautiful child, well behaved. Rum was so happy to be a real family. But something happened to Milah. Now that I think back to it, it was probably some form of post partum depression that no one picked up on. The poor woman became withdrawn, gaunt, lost all joy for life. Eventually, she made a run for it, ran over Rum's foot with the family car and got on a ferry to France. Oh Gods. They found the car on the ferry, Bae's seat still there. No one knows what really happened, but that night, on the boat, there was a storm on the channel. They never found either one of them, and Rum's been mostly a recluse ever since."

There was a pause as Raven looked up and blinked repeatedly, trying to breathe and get her voice back under control. Eventually, she looked at Belle. "He's a good man. And I am glad he's here today - isolation would really do him no service. I would say, Rory, Belle, if you were to trust anyone but your family, you trust him. People like him only come along once in a life time, and my trust in him is absolute."

* * *

Belle spent a large part of her afternoon fending off numerous men who were attempting to dance with her. Thankfully, Rory had confided in her that given her lack of balance, she was afraid to dance, providing the now somewhat sisters with the perfect excuse to sit together and get to know each other, each claiming that they could not possibly leave the other for even a minute. Eventually, however, Rory was led away by her best friend, a quiet, serious girl that introduced herself as Mulan, and the brunette was left to sit in the corner on her own.

Damn, she was out of whisky.

She was just debating whether it was worth running across the room to the bar again to get some hard, cold liquor, when a tumbler materialised in front of her, filled with ice and what looked like two fingers of a wonderful amber liquid.

"May I tempt the lady to a dance with this?"

The voice (and indeed cane) belonged to Mr Gold. The man sat down next to her and gave her the glass. "This is the finest Bruadar that money can buy - I am sure you would enjoy the taste." Rather than looking at her expectantly, he leaned back and watched the festivities with a gentle smile on his face.

Belle didn't even notice when they struck up a conversation about the legal and moral aspects of talking about government work outside of work.

She also didn't realise until half way through her second waltz with the man that she was really enjoying the dancing.

* * *

After her father and Raven had been helped into their limo and had driven off to Heathrow to catch the last night flight to their honeymoon in the Philippines, Belle and Rory stayed behind to escort the guests out, and liberate any of the 'borrowed' possession that they may have attempted to carry out from the guests' handbags and pockets. So far, they had collected a vase, a small framed painting, several silk handkerchiefs, a couple of bottles of half drunk liquor, exactly 11 crystal platters and ash trays and, bizarrely, a lobster missing one of the claws.

Finally, there were only a few guests left, who were the members of the wedding party and were still helping to finish the arrangements. Belle and Aurora got escorted out by them and the house staff, after numerous reassurances that everything would be fine and that the women needed a break after being on their feet and hosteses all day.

Aurora ran up to a sleek, dark purple car and knocked on the window, which lowered to reveal a tired Mulan. The woman opened the boot and then got out to help Rory load in her bag and various bits that she had needed for the wedding. "Belle, do you need a lift? I know it's a bit out of our way, but we don't mind…"

The brunette shook her head. "Nah, don't worry about me. I just moved to the centre of the town anyway, I really don't want you stuck in the traffic. You go on home and I ll get a taxi. Worst comes to worst, I ll sleep here. It's home after all."

The two nodded and then drove off shortly afterwards.

It was not two minutes later that Belle regretted not taking them up on their offer. She had forgotten that it was Friday night - every single taxi company she had called so far told her that they had no drivers at all available to make the trip right now, and would she wait until about 2 am? The groan of annoyance that she let out after a fourth call like that probably registered on a seismometer somewhere.

"Miss French?"

She spun around and came face to face with Mr Gold.

"Ah, it is you. May I enquire as to why you are sounding like a charging hippo?"

The woman blushed and gestured mutely to the phone, murmuring the word taxi. Gold smiled. "As it happens, I have a taxi that is due to arrive any moment. Would you like a ride?"

Belle breathed for a minute and hoped that she resembled less of a tomato when she spoke next. "Only if it's not too far out of the way. I live in the town centre now…"

"Then that is settled. I am based there myself - makes it easier to make it to my practice in the morning. And I believe our ride is here. "

The cab had indeed just arrived, and after a brief check, Gold helped her into the car. Belle was still too embarrassed to speak and instead concentrated on looking out of the window.

Eventually, though, she turned to her cab buddy. "Just what kind of a name is Rum, anyway?"

Her companion chuckled. "I see you didn't forget that. Well, dearie, I was named after my own father's drink of choice, though I prefer to tell people that it is short for Rumplestiltskin. Helps project the image of a scary lawyer, you understand." And just like that, they fell back into conversation.

It was only when the taxi stopped outside her house that the conversation came to a close. Belle turned and, in a show of just how drunk she was, threw her arms around the man. "Thank you, Mr Gold. I really appreciate the lift. I hope we meet again," and proceeded to throw a tenner behind her and get out of the car.

She never paused to realise that the man have a very surprised expression on his face. Or the fact that she had never given either him or the driver her new address. Or, even more importantly, the fact that the man with a cane got out his own keys and entered the same apartment block behind her only a minute or so later, head shaking in silent amusement.

************Once Upon A Time****************

Emma's day had started a little later then Belle's who had to be awake at 6 to be sure of making it to her family home in time and having enough time before the ceremony to get dressed and made up.

Henry was the first up and Emma awoke shortly after 9 to the sounds of her son in the next room, playing with the piles of stuffed toys in the box by his bed.

She got out of bed, got dressed and managed to get both Henry ready and fed by the time that Mira turned up on the door step at a little after 10. The redhead was dressed in jeans and an old t-shirt, and was sporting a large bad at her side. At Emma's questioning look, the woman smiled, "I do have a nephew, you know. I have Calpol already stashed away, and a few pairs of Pampers just in case. You do need to give me anything that he needs. Change of clothes, dietary requirements?"

"Where were you when I was looking for a babysitter two years ago?"

Both women laughed. "Yeah, I get that sometimes. My partner and I keep being told we have a cute baby and are good parents, when we look after his nephew. At least his sister is happy. If you give me his stroller, we ll be going, won't be, Henry?"

The little boy nodded.

"Go put your shoes on. Killian will be over in about half an hour. Give us a call when you want me to bring Henry back, ok?"

And in a few minutes, they had left.

* * *

True to Mira's prediction, Killian turned up exactly 27 minutes later, just as Emma finished getting dressed and packing the last few boxes. Now all that remained were the kettle that came with the flat and a few cleaning items, as well as some things that Emma wasn't sure would fit in the new place - those she would leave behind, but was considering coming back for.

The man was, for once, dressed casually, with no dress pants in sight. He did, however, have two (much) shorter men standing right behind him. One looked rather afraid and sported a bright red knitted hat, despite the fact that it was still early October and they were experiencing an Indian summer. The other was a man with a large nose and looked like he was some kind of a builder. This guy showed past Killian and attempted to shove past Emma into the flat, "Where's this stuff we have to move then?"

The remaining two sighed in unison and Killian spoke up. "Swan, I apologise for Grumpy over there, but I figured that since we were going to be lifting, we would need an extra pair of hands. Please, meet my motley crew."

The man in the red cap stepped forward, "Smee, Ma'am. I am your local man with a van. Killian said you needed some help?" The little man gave a little nervous laugh, his face taking on an extression of a tiny mouse that was about to be stepped on. Emma reached out her hand, "Please to meet you, Smee. I m Emma." The look of relief on the man's face was almost blinding. Turning to Killian, she nodded to the boxes, "Shall we get started then?"

* * *

She discovered pretty quickly that the other man was Leroy and that he ran a wood workshop on the outskirts of town. Together, all four of them managed to get two beds down the stairs and to get various other bits of furnishings outside. Then, they proceeded to load all the boxes into the van and into Emma's car.

It took a little over three hours, but everything that Emma had bought in the four years she had lived in her little flat was dismantled, loaded and ready to be taken away. It was ironic that she was only going to be moving two streets away, but the better area and larger place, as well as the added security of a gated community and other people nearby was already a welcome change.

It wasn't until she saw that Smee and Leroy were doing most of the lifting that she felt truly comfortable talking to Jones though. "Skiving much?" She leaned next to him on a wall, while he directed the 'traffic' though the living room, and was completely unprepared for the looks that immediately turned up on all of their faces. "What? What did I say?" She was met with Leroy and Jones's blank looks and noticed that Smee looked really uncomfortable.

"I didn't expect this from you, lass." The bitterness in the dance teacher's voice was clear. Without another word he turned on his heel and walked out of the flat. Smee's eyes were pointed at the floor, and it was Leroy who spoke up. "Look lady, I don't mind you since you seem nice and he's a bit of a bastard. But making fun of his disability is low for anyone. Hell, even I don't do it."

Emma could only gape. "Disability? What wrong with him? He seems fine…"

"You don't even know?" The short man snorted and shook his head. "Well, that explain it. Run along now. I m sure he'll at least consider forgiving you, since you didn't know. Go, we know how to lift things."

Emma bolted from the flat.

* * *

She found the dancer leaning in a little alcove under the building's stair - out of sight and almost imperceptible, but it was the first place she would hide as well. "What do you want, Swan?"

Somehow she didn't expect to be quite so hurt at the bitterness in his voice.

"Erm, Leroy kicked me out." Pause. "He also said you are disabled?" Another pause. "I am guessing it's something I can't really see. Is it your eyesight, or something? I m really sorry I didn't realise, but you are a picture of a perfectly healthy male, from where I m standing." Right. Feed his ego.

Jones's posture relaxed a bit. "You really haven't noticed anything?" Emma shook her head. No, she truly hadn't. "And Mira and Cam have told you nothing?"

"Should they have?"

The sad smile he gave her surprised her. Even more surprising, he held out his left hand to her.

Curious, she took it. The hand was cold, but for the life of her, Emma could not understand why she was holding it.

Jones reached up and rubbed his left wrist with the other hand.

It went to Emma's credit that when she was left holding a single, disembodied hand in her two much smaller ones she didn't scream or drop the said hand. Instead, she blinked, took a deep breath, closed her eyes and whispered, "Ah, I see the disability." Only a second later, she opened her eyes, and quipped, "And this stops you from doing hard labour, how exactly?"

The grin on his face was worth it. After all, it was not every day that a woman took the news that a man was missing a hand and reacted to it in a relatively positive manner.

* * *

Five hours and a lunch break later, Emma was all moved in. the various bits of furniture were tidily arranged, Henry's clothes put away in the various draws in his dresser and the kitchen was fully set up. There were still some of Emma's clothes and personal possessions to unpack, but for the moment, everything that was out of boxes would serve her and her son for a few days or possibly a week, before they needed to do any more unpacking.

As the last set of boxes were brought up, Smee made his excuses, saying that he needed to get home to his grandmother and make sure she had her medication, and refused every attempt Emma made offering to pay him for his time. In the end, he left, completely unaware that she had managed to slip a couple of twenty pound notes into his coat pocket.

Leroy had been much easier to deal with. The shorter, stockier man stayed with them for well over an hour afterwards, joining them in their trip to the pub to get some beer and food. Eventually, however, he too waved goodbye and went home to his fiancée.

This left Emma and Killian walking together back to her block.

"Huh?" Emma did a little bit of a double take. Seeing her companion's surprised and apprehensive expression, she elaborated. "I hadn't really realised how close this place is to everything. Your studio is just over there, there's a Tesco's downstairs, and I think that lawyer guy who showed up at practice a few weeks ago actually owns the place we just moved to. Small and convenient world, hey?"

The man nodded and then grinned, "So, Swan, does this mean that you will be spending more time with me?" The eyebrows did that suggestive dance and Emma's immediate reaction was to roll her eyes and shove him lightly.

"Nah. I think that this is about as much of you that I can stand."

They continued in silence until they got to the door of her building. "Well, Swan, when's the date?"

She laughed. Trust him to remember that. "Today not enough for you, sailor?"

"I believe that we agreed on a date, if I got you to fall over for me?"

Emma laughed louder and turned her key in the lock. "Dream on Jones. By the way thank you and your sister is on the way with Henry. See you Wednesday!"

She slipped inside and waved before she ran up the stairs to her flat.

Killian signed. Oh well, it had been worth a try, at least. He stuck his hands in his pockets and immediately pulled his right one out again.

In his hand was a little slip of paper:

"9 days from now, Monday. Legoland, 9 am. Meet you there :)"

And just maybe his efforts were succeeding.

**AN: They really warm my heart. Both of these pairs, and what ever happens in the series, my favs will eventually find true happiness. Eventually. Hope you enjoyed this and I look forward to hearing from you **


	6. Chapter 6 - Sweet Sound of Interrogation

**Chapter 6 - The sweet sound of interrogation**

Note: Hello Al! Happy New Year to all. This chapter is slightly smaller than the previous one. Hope you all enjoy it.

The lesson on Wednesday went as normal, the group going through a repeat of the Jive steps and being taught some new cha cha cha figures. Emma danced with Belle as usual, but Ruby slid across the floor with Gus, a mischievous smile on her face.

Somehow, it came as no surprise to either of the women when, about 10 minutes before the end of the session their red haired friend tripped and then promptly made a nose dive.

"Ow! My ankle. Oh no, my ankle!"

The over the top whinging gave it away. Ruby only whinged about pain when she went to the dentist - otherwise, the woman was know for coming home black and blue, covered in bruises and welts after a side track through a woods or from climbing a tree. The last time she hurt on this very dance floor, she was biting back tears in pain and making smart ass remarks until the painkillers kicked in, not complaining at the top of her voice.

This time, she also didn't allow Gus to carry her, preferring to lean on him instead. Killian followed through with the last couple of minutes of the class and excused everyone to pack up. Emma and Belle simply picked up their things and ran to Dr Hooper's office.

Inside, there was an obvious lack of Gus.

Ruby was stretched out on the examination bed while Dr Hooper stood over her, carefully prodding her ankle.

"Miss Lucas, as far as I can tell, there is absolutely nothing wrong with your ankle. You must have just stood uncomfortably for a second. No pulled muscles or sprains, as far as I can tell."

Ruby was grinning. "Oh my. I won't be able to ask you to come around and look after me then?"

The doctor, who was bespectacled, ginger and very shy, turned an impressive shade of embarrassed red, which classed horribly with his hair, and began to splutter. Emma took pity on him.

"Doctor, is there anything you can do? Maybe some painkillers or bandage her foot? I'm sure you will agree, a placebo effect can't hurt."

Dr Hooper regained some composure, and thankfully missed the glare that Ruby directed it at her friends.

* * *

Emma quickly ran back to collect Henry, and prepared to walk Ruby back to her car. On her way out, she spotted Killian, leaning casually on the wall, talking to Cam. Making a split second decision, she turned to Mira, who was helping her get Henry's shoes on. "Mira?"

"Mm?"

"Are you free for a lunch at any point this week?"

The dance teacher blinked in surprise, before understanding dawned. "You want to talk about Killian?" Nod. "You know, he's going to hate me if I do." The woman raised her hand to her face, and absently gnawed on one of her extremely long nails. "Friday, 1pm good? Granny's? Bear in mind, I will not be telling you anything about him."

Emma had to take what she was offered, and nodded again, then pulled Henry up and ran to catch up with her friends.

* * *

"Ruby, seriously, what in the WORLD were you thinking? The poor man was about to combust on the spot. And what did you do with Gus?" It was not difficult to follow the women's voices around the back of the building and to the road leading to Emma's and Belle's home.

The red-haired woman shrugged. "Gus went home to finish up the plan for taking his girlfriend dancing in two weeks' time. I am sure that he is thrilled that he can actually do some moves and is probably thinking of proposing."

Belle glared at her friend. "Good. You weren't USING the poor man, thank God. Why were you harassing the poor doctor?"

"I think, Bella, you will find that our flirt here has a little crush on the good man. Who wouldn't? His face takes on absolutely wonderful shades." Emma had caught up to them, and effected as posh an accept as she could. "I dare say, in the next few weeks we shall see a lot more of such going ons." Both the blonde and Belle dissolved into mad laughter.

"Seriously? I like him." Ruby blushed at that outburst, then continued. "He is caring, and intelligent, and I just really want an excuse to talk to him. And he's got soft hands."

Emma laughed. "Then stop pretending to twist your ankle and ask him out for coffee. God only knows that Granny will actually like this one. She'll probably feed him for free."

Rather than running screaming from the idea, as Ruby normally wood, her face took on a resolute expression. "You know what? Maybe, maybe I will."

* * *

Friday turned into a hectic day for Emma. They had two attempted attacks on their systems, followed by a massive security breach, which left Emma buried waist deep in paperwork by eleven that morning. It got so bad that eventually, she had to resort to drastic measures.

At a quarter to one, her phone rang.

What happened would have been interpreted by a casual observer as an urgent phone call. Emma picked up, answered, identified herself, then gently lowered herself into her chair and assured the person on the other end that she would be over shortly.

Rory was the closest person to her, and she looked worried. "Everything ok?"

Emma blinked. "That was one of Henry's teachers. They were hoping that I could pop in during lunch." Seeing the new starter's face, she rushed to reassure her. "It doesn't seem anything serious, they just forgot to give me a form to sign this morning, and were hoping to get it back tomorrow, so I ll need to go and pick it up. Will you be ok for an hour?"

Rory sighed. "I am still not entirely sure of what I am doing, but I ll give one of the engineers a shout if I struggle."

With her back story assured (and the form already in her bag, in case anyone asked to see it), she settled down to finish the paperwork and then threw on her coat and left.

Mobile phones and prescheduled, ringtone alarms on said phones were a wonderful invention.

* * *

By the time that Emma reached Granny's, the dance teacher was already sitting there, a cup of tea and a teapot in front of her, in a little, out of the way booth in corner. Smart, Granny would not be able to sneak up on them.

The redhead smiled. "If you don't mind, I told Mrs Lucas that you were will me and ordered your usual. And told her that we were discussing Henry's extracurricular, and timing it with his days off in the near future."

It was nice to be dealing with an intelligent woman, for a change. Who wasn't her boss and liable to threaten her pay, at least.

A few minutes later, their food arrived and Mira sighed.

"I better begin at the beginning. It's probably best that you know that I was legally taken guardianship of."

Emma blinked. This was not something that she had been expecting. The woman in front of her had obviously been raised in a stable home and didn't look like anyone who was an orphan.

Mira continued. "My parents were wonderful, strict but loving people who, unfortunately, left me an orphan at the age of 11. They made sure that everything was left to me, had a close family friend all set up to take me in.

However, Dr Whale was not a relative."

That made Emma cringe. She knew where this was likely going.

"So of course, they had to make an assessment, since he wasn't a blood relative, and investigate, just in case, if there was anyone some suitable for me. Of course, they didn't find anyone, except an elderly aunt in France, who needed care herself. But I was placed into the system.."

"I only stayed there for a few weeks, maybe 6 at most, while they grilled Uncle Whale and made sure the house was suitable. But in the meantime, I was in a home with about 10 other kids. And most of them hated me for being wanted."

The woman looked much older than she was at that moment, remembering the heartless jabs and probably being made to feel like her hope of a family was futile.

"There were only two kids who didn't make fun of me. A little girl I shared a room with, who refused to speak to anyone and whose name I never found out, and who just clung to me every night, crying, and Killian. He was 14 then, and just lost his brother to the first Gulf war. He stood up for me and stopped me from getting beaten a few times. He was defending me the day Uncle came to collect me from the foster home.

Most of my friends got left behind in the Birmingham area when I was moved, and Killian really was the only person I wanted to see. Uncle never married and I think he came to see him as family because of that. Uncle and I would take him out of the foster home, take him on trips and we all grew really close. Eventually, we got told that some of his really distant family had agreed to look after him and he was moving back to Portsmouth.

Uncle got really angry for a long time and then one day, he just brought Killian home and said that it was his home now. I guess he pulled some strings and went over everyone's heads and adopted him. We didn't really care at the time - we weren't being separated and we became siblings. And that, Emma, is as much as I can tell you."

The woman took a long sip of her tea and Emma could not help but notice that her hands were shaking.

"What about Killian's hand?"

This time it was bitterness that she heard. "What about it? We both got sent to uni. I did a course in business administration and finance, met my partner there, and worked in business and for charities. It wasn't enough for my brother. He followed uncle's wishes - took a marine science course, played the piano and dropped out in his first year. He wanted to honour Liam, his brother. Stupid man went to Iraq to protect others, got his hand blown off by an IED. Uncle was beside himself with anger and then fear. My uncle is a wonderful surgeon, and even he wasn't able to save his son's hand. It almost destroyed us."

Mira stabbed the fries on her plate like they had been personally responsible for the IED. "Eventually, we had him stable, and fitted with a prosthetic. And after I graduated and made him finish his course, we agreed that we would set up a business together. That is how you met us."

Emma sat there for a minute, feeling inexplicably tired. It was easy for her to imagine that kids like her were rare - an orphan, but one who had managed to get away from the stigma and forget that there were countless others in and out of the system, many of them emotionally scarred for life. She had once also sought comfort in the few children around her who didn't tease or torture and knew what it was like to settle in and then be ripped away from the people she had grown to know.

More than anything, she hoped that in the aftermath of Neal landing in prison, it would never happen to Henry.

Mira stood up. "Thank you for listening to me, Miss Swan. It is obviously not the whole story, but I think that that much I can probably tell you without having my brother angry at either of us."

She gathered up her things and stood to leave. "I like the way you don't treat him like a cripple. Please, please don't hurt him. He wouldn't be able to survive it again."

Left alone to herself and her own thought, noticing that there was even more to the story, Emma could only promise that she would try.

**AN: And I have writers block. Don't get me wrong. I have the end all written up but 2 chapters. I have 2 more chapters after this all typed up and ready to go. And then I have nada. No inspiration. I know what happens, but it refuses to write itself. I hope I ll be able to get over this soon, so for the time being I am blaming this on the stress of revision and being unemployed. Take care everyone, any feedback is really appreciated.**


	7. Chapter 7 - Robot Dance

**Chapter 7 - Robot Dance**

**Hello my readers. Here is another chapter. Please R&R, I really miss your comments.**

Monday found Emma getting Henry into his car seat much too early in the morning. The kid was rather unhappy at being forced to wear a raincoat and a jumper, and was showing his displeasure by kicking the seat and trying to wriggle out of it, not letting his mother strap him down.

"Henry! For heaven's sake, keep still!"

The kid proceeded to ignore her.

"Henry! Henry, look at me. Do you want to have a nice day out?"

That seemed to capture his attention. Henry calmed down for a second and looked directly at his mother, though his arms were still too stretched out to have the belt passed around him.

"We are going to a theme park, and to do that, you need to calm down and let Mum strap you in, ok? If you don't, we can't go anywhere and have fun."

Henry was an incredibly intelligent boy quickly realised that it was better to sit quietly and submit to being strapped down if it meant that he could run amok later and in front of other people, so he retracted his arms and stopped fussing.

"He's getting smart. He didn't resist the car seat for too long." Belle had just arrived downstairs, dressed to go to work. "Have fun on your day off?"

"Oh, we plan to."

"Let's hope that that dance instructor of yours isn't scared off."

"Will you and Ruby stop that? He isn't my anything." Emma straightened up and moved to close the door. Turning, she saw someone in the doorway of their apartment building. "Morning Mr Gold! Could you do something about the carpet in our bathroom?"

"Miss Swan. Good morning. May I enquire if the carpet has offended you in some way?"

Emma laughed at the man's reply and thus missed Belle freezing up.

"Not really, but Henry keep trying to hide inside it, and it's pretty heavy if it were to fall on him. If you could get someone to move it to storage?"

Belle turned slowly, hoping that her ears were deceiving her.

No such luck.

The man was dressed as impeccably as he had been at the wedding, and still held a cane in his hand. The smile indicated that he clearly remembered who she was.

Emma chose that moment to discover her manners. "Oh, Belle, you never met. This is Mr Gold, our landlord. I met him that Friday when I went to pick up the keys."

"I will take care of the carpet Miss Swan. I ll get someone on it as soon as I can locate my housekeeper. Enjoy your day."

He then walked closer to Belle and held out his hand in greeting. "Miss French, we meet again, just as you had hoped. How are you?" His smile was gentle and he looked genuinely pleased to see her.

But the mortification of throwing her arms over a complete stranger and then discovering that that (rather attractive not quite stranger) was her new landlord had her turn tail and run, leaving Mr Gold stood in the parking lot in front of their house, still holding out his hand.

* * *

Emma arrived at the Legoland a little before the time she had scheduled with Killian and proceeded to get Henry out of the car and into his stroller. Thankfully, the boy had fallen asleep on the way, and Emma hoped that she would be able to get the tickets before he woke up again. Sighing, she looked around - no delicious, no, no, no DANCE teacher in sight.

She zipped up her son and was just about to walk off, when she looked up. And squealed.

Killian Jones had literally materialised in front of her and she had absolutely no idea how he managed that. There were definitely no new cars in the parking lot.

Seeing her puzzled expression, the dancer spoke up. "Cam dropped me off. I can't actually drive. Or rather, I can, but really shouldn't." He held his right hand up by way of explanation, Emma immediately remembering that it was a prosthetic.

Instead of letting her blush and stutter, Jones pulled something out of a pocket. "I wasn't sure if you had pre-ordered the tickets, or bought them already, but I figured that I could at least provide my own fair and our lunches."

In one of his hands was a 2 for 1 voucher from the supermarkets. In the other was a picnic basket.

"You shouldn't have."

He waved that aside. "Hey, I wanted to. This was we won't need to spend anything on overpriced food inside, and you get to find out that I am a wonderful cook." The wink was a nice touch.

* * *

They spent several hours exploring the theme park, allowing Henry onto all the rides he was allowed to go onto and snapped pictures of him hiding inside humongous orange Lego pumpkins. He was particularly enthralled by the large dragon that lorded over the entrance to one of the attractions and refused to go anywhere near it.

The day, therefore, was a resounding success.

As was Killian's 'test-drive'.

The man was excellent (and yes, Emma did realise that she was making him sound like a wine or a piece of steak). He had let Henry climb all over him, threw him carefully into the air a few times and even took the little boy aside for a chat when Henry had been too scared to go on a ride, but wouldn't admit it.

Emma had no idea how he did it, but Henry came back from the talk and was brave enough to admit that he didn't feel safe going. Killian rewarded his bravery by doing a quite impressive imitation of the way a robotic dragon would move.

Now, the little boy was calling Jones 'Capt'n!'.

Their lunch break found both the adults leaning on the rails of the "Lego Driving School, munching on sandwiches with home made filling, watching Henry being put through the steps by an instructor. Emma would occasionally pause, aim her phone and snap a picture of her boy before returning to her chat with Jones.

Unfortunately, she had discovered that his walls were almost as high as her own.

He had freely talked about serving in the military, and didn't really have a problem telling her how he lost his arm. Protecting Smee from shrapnel from an IED in Basra was something he had been proud of, regardless of whether it had cost him an arm. It also explained how he got promoted to Captain, after the attack, before being discharged with full honours. He talked about Mira's (essentially) godfather and how the same man had become the great father he had always wished for. Dr Whale was a renowned surgeon who could not bear to see his son in pain, and had insisted he preform the surgery allowing for a highly experimental prosthetic to be attached to him. The fact that Emma had not noticed that it was one spoke highly of his skill - the nerve endings were seamlessly integrated into the receivers at the base of the appendage, which could be unhooked from its slot, another more suitable 'hand' fitted into place if necessary, and manipulated, after some practice, with almost the same ease and flexibility as she did her own hand.

Somehow, looking at him, surrounded by people who had grown to love him, she could hope that she would finally fit in somewhere.

Eventually, the talk turned to her. She told him in exactly four words that she was an orphan and when she was 16 she was taken under the wing of Ruby, and extremely popular girl in her class. Through some miracle, she made it though her A-Levels in Law, English, French and Computer Science with decent grades, and got accepted to her current company on a training programme in IT Security and Customer Support. And now, 5 long years later and a two year course in the specifics of IT security (which her company had kindly paid for) that she had started almost as soon as she joined, she was finally Head of Security Products and was proud of it.

When Jones had asked he quietly about Henry's father, she replied, briskly, that yes, there had been one, they had met at work and, after some hesitation, he was now in prison for selling customer data.

Something told her that Mira would be spending a lot of time at Granny's asking for stories of her and Ruby's years in school and work.

Thankfully, Jones chose not to pry any further, but turned his attention to the matter at hand.

"So, Swan, when will you go on a date with me. If you are concerned about young Henry, do not worry, he is welcome to come along."

Emma rolled her eyes. The man just would not let up.

"Is this not enough for you?"

Her tone must have been harsh, because his face closed off. He turned away from her, choosing instead to stare at Henry's car. "Despite what you believe about men, I do not have any untoward intentions. I do just want to get to know you better. A strong woman like you is a challenge, I admit, but I can't help but admire you as well."

Emma could not help but feel guilty. Apart from a few lines of innuendo and his eyebrows doing incredibly suggestive things, he had been a perfect gentleman.

But so had Neal, and look how that had turned out.

And then, she remembered Mira and Henry and Cam and little Grace and even Granny. These people all liked him and most of them could vouch for the fact that he was a good person. She had no doubt of their integrity, and they had no doubt of his, so why should she behave any differently.

That maybe, just maybe, he deserved to be given a chance.

"Ok."

He looked at her despite his clear desire to avoid doing so.

"I did lose a bet. So, a date it is. If I said Friday, two weeks from now? Belle would be ok to watch Henry for two hours, and if not, we can move the time to suit all of us. But you pick a place and we'll do something, just the two of us. I only have two conditions."

His face lit up like a Christmas tree. "Name it."

His enthusiasm was almost childish. "Hold up, sailor, maybe you won't like it. We can't go outside town centre, and we must be back by 9 so I can read Henry his bedtime story." She thought for a moment. "And probably no alcohol."

She was surprised when he leaned in for a gentle hug, held her for a few seconds, kissed her cheek and then let go of her only to catch hold of Henry, who had ran towards them at that very moment.

And just maybe, she would not regret giving him a chance.

**AN: Unemployment has killed my muse. She still refuses all medical care and motivation to be written.**


	8. Chapter 8 - Viennese Waltz on Rooftops

**Chapter 8 - Viennese Waltz on Rooftops**

**Hello everyone. I am still unemployed, but studying, and currently have a really bad bout of flu - I blame my brother-in-law for that, since he just came back from Honk Kong and obviously brought back something that knocked my immune system out. Please, enjoy the chapter and I will do my best to resuscitate my body and my muse for next week for another installment. This is the Starlit Waltz of the title.**

The Thursday before her date with Killian found Emma contemplating that the day was not going to be pleasant, in any way shape or form. She was on the train, headed to London, on an unpleasant errant.

Today was the day she was giving evidence in court, against a person she had trusted, her own team member, her close friend, her son's father, who was being accused of both corporate espionage and high treason of the Crown.

Emma was currently located in the first class of the just-after-rush-hour train, staring into the distance, watching houses, cars, streets and smaller stations fly by. Opposite her sat Katherine, the company's legal aid and advisor, who was well liked for always being ready to advise colleagues on various technicalities and offer advice on any legal matters, be they in or outside work. In this instance, she was assisting the prosecution and the firm's actual lawyer, helping to coach Emma, Belle and others who knew Neal, before they were to give their testimony.

The legal aid was probably, given the circumstances, the best person to understand the blonde. Katherine was in her early forties and divorced, though she had recently remarried. Having married her long-time boyfriend from college, she found herself, ten years later, falling madly and deeply in love with her partner at her previous place of employment. Not wanting to leave her husband, whom she respected and was a good friend of despite everything, she held strong, only to find out a few months later that he was in a similar situation. Having accidentally encountered his first love at a fair held by her school, Katherine's ex-husband, David, found that she still returned his feeling, and he subsequently wanted a divorce.

Prior to that, Katherine could never imagine that an amicable divorce could exist, but that was exactly what happened. While she could not help resent the woman who charmed her husband a way just a little, she understood that her and David's marriage had dwindled to a friendship, and they were probably both secretly glad that they had had no kids. After both their initial confessions, neither of them hid anything or was unreasonable, unlike so many couples she had come across in her career in the legal practice. David kept the car, they sold the house and split the money and she moved in with the love of her life.

Had they not been honest and kept things secret, or worse, acted on their feeling before talking to each other, then the situation and legal 'dispute' would have been very different. As such, she was giving them advice on helping them track down their daughter, whom David's new wife had given up years ago, when she had been forced to move away, and whom she had before his relationship with Katherine, when she was still 16.

So, when Katherine had found out that Cassidy had been married, she at first had questions as to the authenticity of the information - no one was that good at hiding things. She herself had known him a year longer than Emma had and had done the background checks on him and absolutely NOTHING in his files, history or behavior gave any indication that he had a wife waiting for him anywhere.

In case Emma's relationship to him came under scrutiny, the lack of proper paperwork and his obvious ability to manipulate official records, as well as character witnesses, were their best line of defense.

The train, at that moment, had pulled into their London station and both women stood to move into the city. It was time to face the music.

* * *

Emma was due to appear as a witness for the prosecution at 1 pm sharp, so she and Katherine made it over shortly after 12. Grabbing a coffee on the way in, the legal aid then directed her charge to the rooms that their team was using during the proceedings.

The corporate lawyer was a tall, bald, mean looking man called George Royal, better known (to his enemies) as George the Cleaver. He had a reputation for demolishing cases, often by destroying what ever line of defense they were using, often leaving the opposing team squabbling and in disarray. After that, he let his cases win themselves.

He also happened to be Katherine's ex-father in law, and despite the divorce the two retained a relatively unstained relationship. So much so, in fact, that when Katherine assured him that she was fooled, and could see no reason why Emma would have known any differently, he completely accepted her explanation and never questioned the integrity of Miss Swan again.

Now, of course, he had to make sure he was ready.

Before Emma had even sat down, he fixed his eyes on her and asked, without greeting, "How does it feel to know you were sleeping with a traitor?"

Emma resisted the urge to punch him and instead calmly sat down. She fixed the lawyer with cold eyes before responding. "I have to come to terms with the fact that on day I will have to tell my son that his father cared so much about money he would not hesitate to put a lot of innocent people in danger."

George nodded his head approvingly. "I apologise, Miss Swan, but I am interested in putting this man in prison for what he had done, and his defense knows there is no excuse for that. Today, my job is to make sure that they do not try to incriminate you because of your close relationship with him and try to drag you down along with Mr Cassidy. Now, I have some questions that I would like to work on your answers to - better to be prepared for everything."

Emma smiled ruefully. "I was never much of a Girl Scout, myself, but by all means."

And they got to work.

* * *

Belle's day was no less stressful. With Emma out of the office, her duties, more often than not, fell to Belle and Ruby, with the new girls picking up the slack.

She also needed to make sure that her friend's child was well cared for. Thankfully, Granny had a day off that afternoon, with the café needing painting, and she had volunteered to collect Henry from Kindergarten and make sure he attended his after school sports club. Then, she would feed him dinner and bring him to Belle at 7.

The day turned out to exceed all expectations. There were several time sensitive critical issues logged, a number of engineers had proved to be particularly difficult and Rory managed to get so worked up that she snapped at a particularly unreasonable (and chauvinistic) customer. Belle suspected they were going to have a lawsuit on their hands before long, and was fully ready to launch a harassment counter-suit (thank heavens for loudspeakers and phone recorders.

It got so bad, in fact, that at 4 pm, after having her emails ignored all day, she stormed down into HR, slammed her request for extra headcount onto the table and demanded that she have it signed off, immediately, or help her God, she was going to personally make sure that the Dragon got set on them.

Needless to say, 24 minutes later, the approval and the budget came through and she immediately called their recruiter to find her someone who knew languages, IT and customer services.

She was so absorbed in her impossible day that she was completely surprised when Ruby poked her at 6 15. "Don't you have to be home soon to look after Henry?"

Belle looked around. Rory and Wendy had already gone off home, having finished everything they could. The misbehaving engineers were still dealing with horrific cases, and Ruby was all packed away and ready to go home.

With a sigh, Belle stood up. "Let's get out of here, before I kill anyone."

Thankfully, the rest of the afternoon was uneventful. Granny came in promptly just before seven and left Belle some dinner as well. The little boy was then bathed, his clothes washed and put in the drier, and with no homework to do, the boy was settled in front of the TV for an educational cartoon.

It was so calm, in fact, that by 8pm Belle was dozing off.

There was a knock on the door.

That was unusual. They lived in a little gated apartment block after all, so anyone coming from outside had to buzz in and sign a register. Which suggested that the person behind the door was most likely a resident.

Belle came over to the door and opened it. Behind it stood none other than Mr Gold.

"Ah Miss French, hello. I was beginning to wonder if anyone was in. I have come to have the carpet from the second bathroom collected. We don't want young master Swan injuring himself, now do we?"

Belle was aware that she had muttered out a quiet hello, and that she was rapidly turning into a beetroot.

"Please, allow me to introduce Miss Astrid Nova. I employ her as a house keeper, and if I am unreachable, she will be able to assist you."

Behind him stood a small, short woman, with her lovely brown hair in a bun. She waved, "Hello! Now, where is this child-attacking carpet?"

"Erm, right this way."

After showing Astrid where the carpet was hiding, the woman took one look at it and left the flat, muttering something about needing a trolley.

"So, Miss French, I believe that you have been avoiding me."

Damn. She had forgotten that she was alone in her flat with Mr Gold. If she didn't need to make sure that Henry was fine, she probably would have bolted already.

Thankfully, the man continued. "I m sure you are feeling embarrassed about our interaction at the wedding, but I assure you, your company was not lacking in any way. I quite enjoyed spending time with you." Belle looked up, and found that he was hovering just inches away from her.

"Well, oh dear, I just really didn't mean to hug you that way." Mr Gold chuckled, "Oh, that was no problem. I found myself enjoying it. It's nice for me to be appreciated - I am a lawyer with a reputation for being heartless - it's not often I get hugged by lovely ladies like you."

The brunette was at a complete loss. Here was a man, at least 10, more like 15 years older than her, a widower and he was FLIRTING with her.

"But if you feel guilty, Miss French, please feel free to make it up to me, by all means."

And now, she was quite aware that she was gaping like a fish up at him.

"How about you accompany me out to dinner, tomorrow? We can go to that lovely brasserie down the road - I have always liked the look of it, but it always seemed like a place where it is better to enjoy the company of another person." He grinned.

"I can't." Belle looked really apologetic, and hurried to clarify. "I can't tomorrow, I am looking after Henry in the evening." She sighed. "But if you are not too busy, we can move it to Saturday?"

A small smile broke out across his face as he nodded. "6 pm Saturday it is. May I pick you up then, Miss French?"

"Please, call me Belle."

They almost missed Astrid rolling a moving trolley in, until she uttered, "Now, let's get this dangerous carpet out of the young man's reach, shall we?"

As Belle turned to help her through, she could have sworn she heard Mr Gold say, "Alright Belle. Please, call me Rum."

* * *

It was close to midnight that Emma stumbled back into their flat. There was a note on their fridge from Belle that said that Henry had been picked up, taken to his after preschool sports club by Granny and that Belle had given him a bath. Mr Gold had also been by and had picked up the carpet. Henry was now in Emma's bed, waiting for mummy to come home.

Emma promptly collapsed into her bed, gathered her son close to her, and switched off to the rest of the world. She had the next day off anyway, in case she was needed back in court. But thankfully, she had been informed that she would not be needed the next day, so she was planning to stay in and forget that the day had even happened.

Katherine had not been joking when she had mentioned that George was a blood thirsty, heartless sort of bastard. When she had been called up to the stand, he repeatedly questioned her integrity and how she had never spotted any holes in his story. Thankfully, he was also a realistic and good coach. It was better that he or Katherine asked these questions, please she could at least rely on not having an agenda, and she was able to firmly deny every one of them. No, she didn't see anything suspicious in him going to London a lot. A lot of their customers were there, and more often than not their then boss had asked if he could make the trip to see a customer. She had no reason to suspect he had a wife or was selling information. She also had no intention of pushing for marriage - he didn't propose and was an excellent loving father, so that was never an issue. She also never saw much money - Neal paid the rent on their cheap 2 bed place and they lived off her salary. The only time he was extravagant was on baby furniture, as considering he had worked a lot longer than she had, she always assumed that he used his savings.

By the time George was finished, the defense was in tatters. All their questions had been raised and responded to and responded to in a light which made it impossible for them to implicate her. If anything, it was now likely that Gaston would be dragged in for questioning - after all, why did HE always sent Neal?

Only one bit brought unpleasant thoughts. Tamara, Neal's actual wife, sat in the row behind him. She looked beautiful, exotic, her dark skin accentuating her features and stared at Emma with open hatred, as though it was the blonde's fault that she was in this predicament, and that she should be the one imprisoned.

But that was all in the past. And this day was going well. Other than struggling out of the covers to take Henry to class, grab brunch at the newly painted Granny's and climb out once again to retrieve her son, she had stayed in the safe, warm cocoon of her blankets. Henry was busy going some reading, the four year old being proud of being able to do so and Belle was somewhere, keeping out of her way.

So she was taken completely unawareness when the intercom for the house rang.

Hearing that Belle was in the shower, she padded over to the door and picked up the receiver, looking into the little screen. "Hello?"

"Lass, may I come up?"

Oh. Shit.

While she had been laying around, she had forgotten she had promised him a date. However, her brain was so muddled, she simply pressed the KEY button on the device and heard the door unclick.

A moment later, she heard the lift start up.

Feeling too tired to panic, she simply stayed by the door, letting the dark man in just as he was about to knock.

He had a rather large cooler with him and a bag. Setting those down, he looked her up and down. His forehead creased.

"Are you feeling up to doing something, or do you want to move this to another day?" His hand came up gently to check her head, probably for a fever.

She opened her mouth to reply, but someone else interrupted her. "Doing something will do you good. I ll look after Henry." Turning to the dancer, Belle fixed her with her eyes. "You. Take care of her."

Some sort of understanding passed between them, as Belle nodded and turned on her friend. "Now, shower's free, go and get changed."

"Wear something warm and not constricting, love."

Clearly overridden, the blonde simply nodded, and started to her room to gather some clothes of the appropriate type. She swore she heard Jones asking her flatmate for the keys to the building, though.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, she was ready. She had managed to find some clean soft jeans, a warm, grey cashmere sweater and trainers. Going on what Killian was wearing, it certainly didn't look like they were going anywhere fancy.

When she came back out of her room, Jones was there, waiting for her. His cooler had, strangely, disappeared. He offered her his arm, "Shall we?"

The blonde proceeded to be astonished when she saw that instead of leaving her outside, she was being led UP the stairs.

Apparently, her building had a roof.

And apparently the man was taking her on a date where he was the cook.

From her place by the stairs she could see that he had been busy. Two chairs and a table were set up, the table covered in a table cloth and beautifully set. On another table stood a portable grill, and something was happily sizzling away on it. A covered bowl stood on the table, several bottles next to it. A stereo stood on a chair, playing something that Emma vaguely guessed might be Chopin.

"My lady?"

Jones had pulled out a chair and motioned for her to sit.

And she prepared to be wined and dined.

* * *

The dinner was beautiful. Killian had cooked some strips of meat, halloumi, grilled vegetables and the covered bowl had contained roast potatoes. The food was well seasoned and the company good, so their conversation flowed easily.

Currently, he had just served her a homemade pannacotta and they were discussing the previous lesson at the school.

"So, Miss Lucas had this wonderful idea that a Viennese Waltz was a good dance to learn and Cam persuaded me to show it to them. Needless to say, by the end of the two hours, your friend was in Dr Hooper's office, complaining of a headache, and Miss French dropped out 30 minutes in after tripping over. They do have a good sense of balance, but this is beyond them, at present anyway."

"Show me."

He stared at her. Emma had not contributed to the discussion too much, preferring to let him talk about his week and occasionally complaining about her work. She repeated her request.

"Show me."

He swallowed, stood up and went to the stereo.

The soundtrack to Harry Potter came on and he turned to her, pulling her up from her seat.

"Now, this is one of the slowest variants I know, so you should have no problems following it. Just hold on to me, and you will be fine."

It was easy to be swept up in the dance, even though it was obviously much harder than the ones they had been doing in class up until now. They were moving slowly in circles, Killian taking care that she did not trip and fall.

The very long previous day finally got to Emma, and she found herself tearing up, leaning into her companion's chest and with some surprise realised that she was quietly sobbing. She barely registered that they had, after a while, practically stopped dancing and that Killian's arms were now wrapped around her.

"Lass, they can't hurt you, and if they try, they will have to go through me and your friends first. Let it all out."

She had no idea how long she stood there, wrapped in his warmth, but eventually, the crying stopped and she looked up.

The gorgeous man holding on to her smiled down at her, the smile not the cocky, self-assured grin she had seen before, but a gentle, soft, reassuring one. "There you go. Please, remember, if you need anything, I am always just a call away. And if you need someone to accompany you to court, I will happily provide you with my company."

She knew it was pointless to be angry at her friends for telling him, so she just stayed where she was, feeling warm and safe.

Eventually, he leaned down and pressed his lips to her forehead. "Swan, let's go down and see if your son had finished terrorising your faltmate yet. It's past him bed time, I am sure."

She followed him back down the stairs, confident that he would be back later for his things, and that he would throw her son up in the air and respond to the nickname Capt'n.

And she found herself wishing that he had really kissed her.

**AN: Please, read and review. Each review makes me better and is better than any assortment of painkillers. xx**


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